He Was My Almost
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: It all starts one night when new transfer student Kurt Hummel starts kicking the wall that he shares with Sebastian Smythe. Sebastian, thoroughly pissed at having his sleep disturbed by a lower class miscreant like Kurt goes to his room to find out why, thus starting a unique friendship that becomes more. Dalton AU. Skank!Kurt Kurtbastian Kurt H. Sebastian S.
1. Morning Rituals

**"Kurt glances at his cell phone sitting on the sink, the time clearly displayed in white numbers against a black background. 5:51 a.m. In approximately thirty minutes, this bathroom will start to fill up with boys using the facilities, taking their morning showers, and brushing their teeth. But for now, the bathroom is his. Kurt has been there for the past hour and he hasn't shown his face. Just ten more minutes left on his skin care routine, and Kurt will be home free. He'll put his uniform on. He'll eat his breakfast, and conquer math.**

 **He won't have encountered him at all.**

 **He'll have escaped. For the first time, he'll get away clean."**

 _ **Notes - Okay, I'm going to jump all the sharks and explain this right now so I don't get crucified later. If I had started this series as a story, this would have been the first chapter. It kind of explains something deeper about the characters and their complicated relationship head on, and then the reader could pick through the hows and whys as the chapters went on and developed. That, of course, isn't the way this happened, but I have had this chapter on the back burner for a while. This chapter involves assault re-enactment, which is something I am very familiar with. It is also something that I would not advise for adult couples, let alone teenagers. But this is the kind of pain Kurt's in, and this is the kind of relationship that they have, and the trust Kurt has in Sebastian that he will do this for him. Now, there are some thoughts at the start that seem specific to Sebastian, but you'll find out later they're not. They have to do with people that Sebastian represents, and Kurt puts them in the scope of Sebastian. I hope that makes sense. But the thing to remember is that at this point in their relationship, which actually we haven't even gotten to yet because there should be about three chapters ahead of this one that aren't written, Kurt and Sebastian love each other. They've told one another that they love one another, and they are in a committed relationship. But this might be difficult for some people to read so please be advised.**_

 _ **Warning for sexual assault re-enactment, which includes sexual content, angst, anxiety, and forced orgasm.**_

 _ **This is part nine in a series that I have already uploaded here. Parts 1 - 8 have already been posted as individual one-shots, but I have decided to start putting the rest here starting with this one. The first eight are as follows:**_

 _ **Bad Dreams**_

 _ **A Compromised Position**_

 _ **The Bedroom Arrangement**_

 _ **Mutually Amenable**_

 _ **Jack Daniels and Heartaches**_

 _ **Text Messages and Failing Calculus**_

 _ **And Baby Makes... Muffins**_

 _ **Tit for Tat**_

Kurt cherishes the sanctity of his mornings – getting ready for the upcoming day alone, in the cathedral-esque quiet of the dorms, the communal bathroom empty since, even though many of the boys at Dalton get ready close to dawn, Kurt manages to get up over an hour earlier. He did the same thing back when he attended McKinley, too – waking up and getting ready before Finn, then showing up on campus before most of the student body. He'd hang out in the choir room, practicing vocal warm-ups with the help of the piano, or reading his copy of _Vogue_ until the first bell. He needed the solitude to fortify himself, to get him in a headspace that allowed him to interact with people. Kurt may consider himself a performer, comfortable in front of crowds, but that doesn't exactly make him a people person. He discovered a while ago that it takes him quite a bit of time to get mentally prepared to deal with the other inhabitants of the Earth planet.

Here at Dalton, humans are sometimes harder to escape. One, in particular, dogs him endlessly, and he brings with him memories that Kurt finds impossible to forget.

Kurt glances at his cell phone sitting on the sink, the time clearly displayed in white numbers against a black background. 5:51 a.m. In approximately thirty minutes, this bathroom will start to fill up with boys using the facilities, taking their morning showers, and brushing their teeth. But for now, the bathroom is his. Kurt has been there for the past hour and _he_ hasn't shown his face. Just ten more minutes left on his skin care routine, and Kurt will be home free. He'll put his uniform on. He'll eat his breakfast, and conquer math.

He won't have encountered him at all.

He'll have escaped. For the first time, he'll get away clean.

Kurt watches the numbers on the clock as the time changes, counting down how much longer he needs to keep the foaming cleanser on his face before he can rinse it off.

5:52.

5:53.

5:54.

He has one minute left to go, but Kurt calls it before his timer, the overly-anxious butterflies flitting in his stomach making the wait unbearable. He turns on the water and splashes his face, barely rinsing the face wash competently. There will be residue left. He'll end up wiping it into his skin. It'll soak in and dry him out, making him itch, even underneath his moisturizer, but he doesn't care.

The suspense of _whether or not today_ is killing him. He can't stand waiting anymore. He's trying his luck every second he stays, but he's proving a point to himself. He has just as much right as anyone else to be here, just as much right to feel safe in this bathroom.

Maybe if he does this enough and gets away with it, he'll make himself believe it one day.

But for now, he's gotten this far. He'd better quit while he's ahead.

The sound of bare feet heading toward the door tell him that he waited a minute too long.

 _Fuck_.

The door squeals open, and a sinister, mocking voice cuts through the quiet. "Well, well, well…"

Kurt drops his head in frustration and defeat, but he keeps a single eye trained on the boy sauntering into the room.

"How do you keep fucking finding me?"

Kurt thinks it in his head, but somehow, it pops out of his mouth.

"There's only five bathrooms on this end of the dorm," Sebastian says. "And besides, you make it _so_ damned easy. You're a creature of habit, with a room next to mine. It doesn't matter what time you get up, which bathroom you choose. I know where you're going to be."

Kurt sighs, blowing out the breath quickly to keep from holding it.

"You know, you're doing this to yourself," Sebastian adds. "You _could_ just get ready in your room."

"I shouldn't have to," Kurt barks.

"It's like you can't stop," Sebastian continues, disregarding Kurt's remark…disregarding _Kurt_ , as a person, an autonomous being. As a human. "You know I'm here. You know I'll be around. That's how I know you want it."

"I don't want anything from you." Kurt stiffens as Sebastian gets closer, but he doesn't move. Fighting will get him expelled. They'll take Sebastian's word over Kurt's. They always do.

He doesn't even try to run.

He knows from experience that he wouldn't get very far. Co-captain of the lacrosse team – Sebastian can outpace Kurt by a mile.

Kurt feels Sebastian behind him, hears the rustle that accompanies Sebastian undoing the belt to the white terry robe he's wearing. He runs his nose across Kurt's shoulders and up his neck, into his hairline, taking a long, drawn-out sniff as he goes.

"Leave me alone," Kurt says in as commanding a voice as he can, knowing it doesn't really matter. It hasn't worked before. It won't work now. "Just do your business, and I'll do mine."

"What a coincidence." Sebastian takes a step forward, pinning Kurt to the sink, and Kurt knows he's trapped. "Because you and I, we have the same business."

"Sebastian" – Kurt bristles at the hand on his back, pressing between his shoulder blades and pushing down – "Sebastian, _don't_."

"Oh, come on, babe," Sebastian says, fitting his naked length against Kurt's ass over the towel wrapped around his hips. "You know you want to. I mean, who the fucking hell else is up at this hour? No one, that's who. Just you and me."

Kurt reaches back to shove Sebastian off, but Sebastian's an inch taller, with a little more leverage. "I said _no_ , Sebastian," Kurt growls, bucking his hips.

"Yeah, well, _you_ might be saying no" – Sebastian reaches around Kurt's hip and pulls the knot in his towel loose, dropping it to the floor – "but your body's definitely saying something else."

"Yeah" – Kurt reaches back again, but Sebastian grabs his wrist and twists, wrenching it behind Kurt's back - "it's saying fuck off!"

"Well, you're _half_ right." Sebastian shoves Kurt's face almost entirely into the sink, the bend and Kurt's shifting muscles spreading him open so Sebastian can line his cock up with Kurt's entrance. " _Fuck_ is in there somewhere."

"Sebastian!" Kurt whines, but Sebastian twists his arm again, effectively shutting him up.

"You know," Sebastian hisses against the shell of Kurt's ear, "this'll go a lot smoother if you just _shut the fuck up_."

"I s-said…I said _stop_ ," Kurt says, still struggling to push Sebastian away, but Sebastian sways with the movement of Kurt's body, making it seem like Kurt's the one initiating when he's really trying to break free. Sebastian had planned for this, for having to take Kurt with his hands occupied. His erection already slick with lube, his body well acquainted with Kurt's, he sinks inside Kurt's body with a nauseating ease.

Kurt stops struggling. He freezes up entirely, hissing with the stretch and burn that accompanies Sebastian entering him without a condom.

"There you go," Sebastian mutters in a voice that sounds almost soothing. "Just relax. Just take it. You'll enjoy it." Sebastian repositions himself so that he can control Kurt's wrist and keep his head pushed down with the elbow of the same arm. It gives him a free hand to run over Kurt's cock, which is, disgustingly, getting harder with each shove. "Look, Kurt - your body wants it. It's giving in already. You don't even have to do anything. Just stand still and enjoy it."

"Sebastian…" Kurt grumbles, but Sebastian pushes harder, twists his arm tighter, finds any soft area of skin and buries his nails in. Kurt glares at Sebastian's reflection in the mirror. He watches Sebastian's eyelids drift shut, his face relaxed into an expression of bliss.

 _The bastard's fucking enjoying himself._

Kurt turns his eyes away. He can't. He can't do that to himself. He can't care about what this is doing to him. But his gaze falls on his own reflection, and that's even worse – mouth twisting with pain, cheeks red with shame, eyes brimming with hatred…but mostly for himself. Because he's weak. He can't protect himself. He tried in the beginning, and what did it get him?

Not less of this.

A black eye. A broken wrist. A bloody nose.

It takes weeks to repair a broken bone.

What's happening to him now will be over in minutes, and then he won't have to think about it again until tomorrow morning.

And Kurt tallies off every hour until he gets there.

"God, Kurt," Sebastian moans, the sound not only ringing through Kurt's head, but echoing within his body, scarring his skin with the feeling of Sebastian's satisfaction, which he takes and takes and takes from Kurt's body, along with his dignity, every day.

It's never enough.

But the worst part about it is that Sebastian's partially correct. Kurt's body _does_ react to Sebastian's. Kurt can't control it – can't contain the fact that more than not Sebastian's cock hits a place that fills Kurt with a quivering, addicting heat, or that his hand stroking Kurt's cock makes Kurt yearn for more, even if he's screaming in his head for this to be over with.

 _Let it end! God, just let it end!_

He submits to make it go quicker, lets Sebastian bow his back till he nearly bends in half.

"I'm cumming, Kurt," Sebastian whispers harshly, hips slamming Kurt hard. "D-do you f-feel that? I'm gonna fill you up. How do you feel about that, huh?"

Kurt wants to spit in his face, yell "Fuck you!" But he's afraid to open his mouth.

Afraid that whatever he says, it'll unintentionally sound like a moan.

That would make things worse for him tomorrow.

Sebastian has Kurt by the short hairs, and he's merciless. He knows exactly what to do to tip Kurt over the edge, to make him cum, make him enjoy it for a second, even though he's thoroughly repulsed by everything going on.

Sebastian knows how to make Kurt despise himself.

Kurt grinds his teeth hard and he groans. Maybe not this time. Maybe he can hold back. If he clenches tight and concentrates, maybe he can stave it off, not give Sebastian the satisfaction.

Not give him any more ammunition.

But it's no use. Sebastian knows this tactic, and he knows a dozen ways around it. He changes angle, pressure, speed. He grips tight, then loose. He massages Kurt's shoulders, kisses the curve of his spine, which throws Kurt off.

That hurts more than anything else Sebastian does to him.

Sebastian knows when Kurt's cumming before Kurt does. That pisses Kurt off to no end.

"There you go," Sebastian coos condescendingly, pumping Kurt's cock until his body trembles, and he slumps against the sink in front of him, milked dry. "That's a good boy. See? Isn't that nice? All better now, right?"

Kurt stares down at his naked body, at his cock throbbing and twitching in Sebastian's fist, a puddle of cum soiling the floor.

"You…you fucking son of a bitch!" Kurt bites as Sebastian releases his grip and nonchalantly washes his hands.

"Don't be like that. You came didn't you? That's more than I do for anyone else." Sebastian pulls out and ties up his robe. He swats Kurt's sore ass, watches his cheeks jiggle, his gaping hole dripping with cum. "See you in math class, _sweetheart_."

Kurt tries to catch his breath, heavy pants perfectly in sync with each step Sebastian takes towards the door. With each muffled footfall, shame slowly bleeds out, and reality seeps in.

Where Kurt is.

Who Kurt's with.

What just happened.

"Wait!" Kurt calls. He doesn't lift his eyes from the sink. He can't yet. "Br-bring…bring my book."

Sebastian stops and raises a scathing eyebrow. "What do you mean _bring your book_?"

" _You_ have it." Kurt swallows. "I…I left it in your room."

Sebastian rolls his eyes, but they stop midway. "Oh, yeah. Last Tuesday. Okay, I'll bring it." Sebastian looks back at his boyfriend – the curve of his back as he leans over the sink, those last few shuddering breaths before he steadies himself and gets ready for the day. Sebastian balls his fists into the soft fabric hanging at his sides to keep from going back to him, putting his arms around him and comforting him.

Kurt wouldn't want that. He wants the detachment, or else everything they just did would be for nothing.

This scene they have going isn't Sebastian's favorite way to have sex, but Kurt wants it this way. He says he needs it, claims a forced orgasm and a cup of black coffee are the best way to start the day. It helps him figure things out. The whole session is extraordinarily calculated, down to every word Sebastian says, when he laughs, how they fuck…how Sebastian hurts him. Sebastian's not abusive. He can be sarcastic, conniving, downright cruel to people he doesn't care about, but he'd never harm a hair on Kurt's head, not without his explicit consent, which he has when they do this.

When Sebastian plays this part, he's not Kurt's boyfriend; he's an amalgam. Sebastian doesn't know an amalgam of what. He doesn't pretend to understand, but then again, he's got a few rituals of his own that he's not necessarily jumping to explain. Many of those, drug and sex related, Kurt helps him with, and Kurt doesn't ask questions. By not stressing on Kurt about this, Sebastian feels like he's returning the favor. Sebastian doesn't know if this is a habit born from Kurt's time in juvie, or before, when he lived with daily bullying at the hands of meathead, asshole jocks, but he hopes Kurt might tell him about it one day. Then maybe Sebastian can find another way to accomplish whatever this ritual accomplishes.

"Don't take too long. I'm heading down to breakfast soon. I don't wanna eat alone."

"Yeah, alright." Kurt reaches for the faucet to turn on the cold water, but stops. "Sebastian?"

"Yeah?"

Kurt turns his head to face him. It seems like a contest is brewing inside Kurt's mind, one that's keeping him from facing his boyfriend, but he eventually looks at Sebastian full on, his face flush with humiliation, eyes wet from remembering, their tracks burning his skin, his bottom lip chapped from biting. "Love you, babe."

Sebastian winks. He smiles that cocky smile that Kurt adores, covering up something inside Sebastian's chest that pulls tight and roars with anguish. "I love you, too."


	2. Covering Scars and Revealing Masterpiece

**Kurt wakes up to Sebastian decorating him in a very personal way.**

 **For freakingpotter on Tumblr. Warning for emotional hurt/comfort and mention of self-harm scars.**

" _Snork_ … _snork-snork_ …"

Sebastian giggles at his boyfriend, lying beside him in his dorm bed and snoring like a fog horn.

" _Snork_ … _snor_ -s _nnnork_!"

"Oh, well _that's_ attractive," Sebastian mutters.

"Wha-huh?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"I'm trying', but somethin's tickling my … what are you doing?" Kurt grumbles, but regardless of the intrusion on his sleep, he doesn't open his eyes.

"Shhh." Sebastian switches from a black eyeliner to a white one and shadows the curve he just made. "You're squelching my creative muse."

"Well, you're creative muse is messing with my sleep, so what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm decorating you."

"Hmm, what?" Kurt opens one eye, but the second pops open when Kurt sees exactly what's going down. "What the fuck are you doing, _Smythe_!?"

"I told you, _Hummel_. I'm decorating you," Sebastian says, continuing undeterred.

"Are you fucking making fun of me!?" Kurt growls, snatching his arm away when he sees Sebastian draw a thin white line from one smooth scar to another.

"No," Sebastian says in seriousness. He holds out a hand in the hopes that Kurt will give him his arm back. "I'm revealing a masterpiece."

Kurt seethes as if Sebastian spit on him, holding his arm to his chest like a wounded animal protecting a broken limb. But he's not cursing Sebastian out or telling him to leave so, in Sebastian's eyes, that's progress. They remain locked in this standoff, neither boy relenting - Sebastian imploring Kurt for the return of his arm while Kurt slides so far away from his boyfriend that he's nearly become one with the wall. But in his hurt and humiliated blue eyes, Sebastian can see he's thinking, deciding his next move. Sebastian still expects Kurt to unleash some form of fury – a hurled book or a nasty insult. But the one thing he doesn't expect in a hundred years is the thing that Kurt _does_ – slowly stretch out his arm so that Sebastian can finish his artwork.

Sebastian takes Kurt's hand gently in his and Kurt moves closer.

"I know you're not all that proud of these," Sebastian says, finishing the tail end of what Sebastian's iPhone claims is the Unicode for the astrological sign Gemini. "You cover them up with leather and makeup, and I get why. They're personal. You don't like people seeing them. But you let _me_ see them. You trust me not to make you uncomfortable about them, and I'm honored. You've been so good about leaving them alone so that they'll heal, but they won't completely go away. You think these make you ugly, but they really don't. They're a part of you."

"Fuck you," Kurt hisses, but he doesn't move, doesn't mess up Sebastian's work. "They aren't birthmarks, Smythe. I wasn't born with them."

"No, but you made them." Sebastian switches out the white liner for a silver glittery one that Kurt rarely wears. "Granted, it probably wasn't during the happiest moments of your life, but I choose to overlook that for now and celebrate _you_. All of you. That includes these."

Kurt sits in quiet contemplation, watching his boyfriend finish. Then, with a heavy swallow and barely any voice, he says, "I love you, Sebastian."

Sebastian smiles, a little more bashful than his usual smiles. "I love you, too, Kurt." He blows across the wet eyeliner till it dries, then turns Kurt's arm so he can see the black, white, and silver lines meticulously crafting two Unicodes – Gemini, which is Kurt's astrological sign, and Capricorn, which is Sebastian's.

Kurt curls his undecorated arm carefully around Sebastian's neck and hugs him. "You know, I don't get you sometimes."

"You don't have to get me." Sebastian wraps his arms around Kurt's torso, lips brushing his mouth, ready to kiss him breathless. "You already have me."


End file.
